Tears.
Tears.  tears stories
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blastimus
blastimus but they since rose, and won the day.
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
She looked in the first mirror she found, and the sun broke down to a million pieces. And she was nothing more than the self projection of a boring author.

Tears.

Crystalline droplets fell abruptly in the cold water. She had the face of a broken angel.

And the water rippled and gently shook the boat. She lifted her defeated self of the floor of the boat.

The water was still once more. She took a step towards the edge.

Tears were already pooling in the boat. She was still spilling what once was a healthy heart.

The water began to raise towards the crystalline river. She was caressed softly by a tendril of her own lake of thought.

And serenity bloomed out of the little boat. Heaven flashed for a second...

So did hell, but for a minute.

And a figure lead a dozen legions of demons.

A figure that only a soulless freak wouldn't recongnise.

She didn't.

And the lake grew restless afterwards.

She was cured, for a while.

It was poisoned for longer.

She would have to learn to live without it, or else risk perishing by her own hand.

Her frail fingers were busy with breaking eachother while she stared blankly at the now black lake. It reflected pain and misery, helpless voices and screams.

It reflected her.

She left and never came back.

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